


Appendices B: The Irkwende

by neverwondernever (thatgbppfrom10880MP)



Series: The War of Winter [3]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Folklore, Multi, Mythology - Freeform, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:59:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7621093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgbppfrom10880MP/pseuds/neverwondernever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irkwende is one of the Avari who enters the city of Angband [Three Peaks] to study the culture of the sacred sex temples.</p><p>By the nature of the Ainur and of the sex temples, there will be darker elements. I will try to tag and leave warnings per chapter as appropriate.</p><p>There is a plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Because the Avari have their own languages, I have adopted some changes to my common spellings and therefore will include them in the list here. Consider it linguist porn if you must.
> 
> Manwe = Mānawenūz, Suliwe  
> Ulmo = Ullubōz  
> Oromë = Arōmēz  
> Tulkas = Tulukhastāz  
> Aulë = Aȝūlēz  
> Namo = Namandōstōz  
> Irmo = Glūrirmōnōlōsfantūrūz  
> Melkor = Mbelekhūrūz, Mailikoro
> 
> Varda = (A)Barādāz, Abaradi  
> Yavanna = Ivōnnākementarīz, Kementari  
> Nienna = Fuiheskīlēz  
> Estë = Ezidhēz  
> Vairë = Gwairilēz  
> Vána = Wannāz  
> Nessa = Dinēthīz
> 
> Mairon = Mairai
> 
> Ainur = Ayanuz, Iianuz
> 
> Race of Men = Secondborn

Many come to the pits of pleasure seeking the same thing, and this one was no different. I give you now my accounts to what I witnessed and went through in my journey.

Entering the pits made me nervous. I was a foreigner to the city and sex was not always considered with as much open light as it was here in the Three Peaks. We have our taboos and our privacy. Here, though, I met many a prostitute and open displays of nudity. I stared too often on my first day until my host, an Orc by the name of Urylivuz, whom I shall call Urlyf for ease of my readers, mentioned that my demeanor could make some uncomfortable or give them the wrong impression. He was an apprentice smith in the city and he had grown up here. 

I asked him if he had visited the breeding pits. He laughed at me in a good-natured way. He said that here they were not called breeding pits. I apologized. He told me that breeding can happen there, yes, but they were more akin to pits of sex, or as we may think of it: pleasure. They were a sacred place—a temple. I told him that in my own city, sex and breeding was often considered the same thing. He found this immensely strange, and embarrassed, I said that sex does happen without breeding, but it was not usually so openly celebrated. Nudity and open prostitution was unusual. 

He took this in and asked me if eating human was wrong in my society. Alarmed, I told him I did not eat them even if I was not human myself.

This only further amused him and he told me that he had met others from out of the city and he was playing a joke on me. I cannot tell if he was backpedaling and if he was truly thinking of feeding me human or if he was simply having fun with me. He had told me earlier that not many of my kind willingly entered the city. 

My first night in the city was interesting yet also lonely. The Three Peaks were unlike my home in the depth of the forests. It was noisy and the air smelled have raw earth--metal, sulfur, and the dust in the air. The sky was immensely cloudy, smoke that rose from the peaks themselves, yet there were artificial lights that made it difficult to sleep. The food was unlike the fresh fruits, meats, and vegetables I'm so used to. Here, they had leavened bread and moldy cheese, which I was told was not rotten but rather how it was meant to be. I cannot say I enjoyed it, yet this was my reason for visiting--to experience the Three Peaks and return with a report to my people. 

The most difficult was not speaking with the Orcs nor the Secondborn and Dwarves that willingly lived here, but rather the knowledge that at any time, I may come across another Elf. How would I explain my presence? How would they explain theirs? Would they be friendly to me or would they despise me? I had not yet asked my host about how common Elves are here and he did not elect to mention it to me.

I went to bed that night with my digestive system restless and unhappy, heavily aware of all the strange noises and lights and smells, equally excited and terrified of what was to come when we visited the sex pits on the morrow. 

. . . 

I should mention perhaps that sleeping was not easy and was not made easier by the stench of the Wargs, which happily sleep in the sitting room. As I slept on a travel bed I found myself quickly smothered by these two monstrous creatures. I fear I will never rid my pack of their smell.

Urlyf found this particularly entertaining when he came down to prepare breakfast. Quietly I despaired for our meal was not fresh and full of greens. He gave me a strange block of dehydrated material. It tasted of dairy and berries. I could not tell how my host felt as I ate my meal gingerly. I believe he knows of my discomfort for this was difficult to conceal in its entirety yet if he is offended or amused, I am unsure. 

After this, he took a small bag of beans and gave me a handful. In inspected it and watched as he ate them. He told me that they gave energy. I ate them but later I found myself in bowel peril and swore not to eat them again.

. . . 

As I left Urlyf's house, horns blew. I found this confounding, loud, and obtrusive. I asked Urlyf what was happening and he told me it was the morning report. He then told me that the skies would be mostly clear until the afternoon and that construction was happening on the east sector. When I appeared shocked how he knew this from the simple air horns he laughed and told me that there was a language. After this he appeared very amused at how primitive Elf culture was. I am not ashamed to admit his attitude insulted me heavily. 

He led me along the roads and I was immediately grateful that I had a guide. The city of Three Peaks was more immense than I had originally imagined and much more complex. The only thing I found comforting was that it was built in a grid. 

The temple itself was not truly a pit and nor was its outward appearance as filthy as I expected it to be. The outside was constructed in the same way many of the greater constructs were designed. It was difficult for me to keep track of it all for it was so busy and awe-inspiringly complex. I stopped to take it in which appeared to frustrate my guide and host. He clearly had better things to do than to wait for a gawking Elf. 

What I found particularly fascinating was the images of the different Iianuz. It was not difficult to miss Mailikoro who is so worshiped by the Orcs but many of his kin were here as well: Suliwe, Abaradi, Kementari. Nonetheless there were differences to them that I found intriguing. I took this to be due to the nature of the temple. 

Urlyf had to urge me inside.

I cannot deny that I was nervous.

The temple within was cool. The entrance room was calm and held many places of rest. I spotted several snacks. I questioned Urlyf about this and he told me that it was not unusual. According to him there was flavored water as well but one had to ask for it.

Many of those in the room stared at me. I spotted several secondborn, some of which with scars. One had scars across his chest. There were Orcs and Dwarves as well. There were none of the Eldar and this only made me more nervous. Would I be refused? 

Urlyf had a completely uninterested air about them.

One of the secondborn walked towards me. In shame what I noticed first was her breasts that hung free and bare. She wore a soft, thin, sheer skirt and shawl. She had various pieces of metal around her body and she made a soft jingly noise as she moved. She eyed me, her face marked with tattoos, well-pierced, and her hair, which was dark and thick, was styled expertly on her head.

She spoke in a tongue I could not understand and I looked to Urlyf. They spoke. 

I looked between them. Urlyf told me that she wondered my purpose here and that he had explained. She was a priest Ivonnakementariz and her name was Haname. I was surprised by this but did not know what else to say on the matter. The priests of Kementari back home dressed nothing like her. 

I asked why she was unclothed and Urlyf laughed at this but refused to translate my question. Haname watched us, caressing her body. Her stomach was large and tattooed. Urlyf told me to stop staring at her. 

He spoke to her and she left, heading through a door that led further into the temple. It was marked but I could not read the script. 

After some time, she returned. She and Urlyf spoke again. He nodded and asked me what I had in the way of offerings. I was startled by this and I told him that I had not prepared to worship Mbelekhuruz nor participate in their rituals. When Urlyf told this to Haname, she was visibly peeved. She spoke.

Urlyf told me, “They're your gods too.”

One of the Orcs laughed but whether or not this had to do with our situation or something else I could not tell. 

It took time, but eventually Urlyf told me that they would allow me in. I thanked him but he appeared thoroughly irritated about the whole affair. He told me that he had to go to his work and that I would be cared for. When I expressed my fear regarding losing my translator he brushed it off and told me I would not require one. He would return later to see how I was doing and that I would stay with the temple during my stay and to do what they ask of me. When I expressed that I was not here to participate and only to observe, he shrugged and left me. With that, I had no choice but to follow the strange priest through the side door that she had gone to earlier.


	2. The Shrine of the Giver of Harvests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irkwende is one of the Avari who enters the city of Angband [Three Peaks] to study the culture of the sacred sex temples. 
> 
> By the nature of the Ainur and of the sex temples, there will be darker elements. There is dub-con.
> 
> There is a plot. Irkwende has entered the temple proper and has visited the first of the fifteen shrines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the Avari have their own languages, I have adopted some changes to my common spellings and therefore will include them in the list here. Consider it linguist porn if you must.
> 
> Manwe = Mānawenūz, Suliwe  
> Ulmo = Ullubōz  
> Oromë = Arōmēz  
> Tulkas = Tulukhastāz  
> Aulë = Aȝūlēz  
> Namo = Namandōstōz  
> Irmo = Glūrirmōnōlōsfantūrūz  
> Melkor = Mbelekhūrūz, Mailikoro
> 
> Varda = (A)Barādāz, Abaradi  
> Yavanna = Ivōnnākementarīz, Kementari  
> Nienna = Fuiheskīlēz  
> Estë = Ezidhēz  
> Vairë = Gwairilēz  
> Vána = Wannāz  
> Nessa = Dinēthīz
> 
> Mairon = Mairai
> 
> Ainur = Ayanuz, Iianuz  
> Maia = Mīai
> 
> Race of Men = Secondborn

The temple walls retained their complexity. I quickly realized that much of it was pictographs and that they were telling me stories. This quickly caused an inner panic in me for I could not stop to study them. What a truly painful experience, to have all the will to study and not the time to do it. Much to my dismay, my strange priest guide refused to allow me even a minute's time to observe them. If I stopped, she would walk swiftly on without me and I almost lost her several times.

Every so often others passed us. Dwarves, Secondborn, and Orcs I saw, but I had yet to see another of my kind and this made me ever nervous. It was startling as well, to see others, for many were not fully clothed and one Secondborn was nude entirely. There was no use in trying to speak with Haname. 

She soon left me in a room. I took this time to study the surroundings. There were artificial lights but their glow was oppressing to my senses and I could not fully make out the room as I wished. I longed instantly for the sun and sky. The walls retained their complexity; I found images of plants and of figures. At first glance, I had assumed that they were caught and trapped by the plants until I realized the figures were being penetrated and in throes of pleasure. Despite my mind recoiling at this notion, a deeper part of me warmed to it. I quickly pushed it down; I was here to observe. 

There were images of Kementari. She was large and had many rolls of fat. She was painted green with stripes of browns. Her breasts were full and immediately welled up images of both comfort and carnal desire. I could not help but blush at realizing that many were drinking the milk from her tits. 

The door which Haname had left through opened and she gestured to me to follow her. 

I did as she beckoned and with relief realized that the next room held flora. The air was thick with humidity and there was a natural glow of light. I looked upwards in assumption that I would see the sky and in shock realized the ceiling was painted. Haname noticed this and pointed towards a light. It was artificial and yet it was so comforting and real. My reaction seemed to amuse her.

Haname led me then to an altar. It was not difficult to realize that this depicted the Mother, Kementari, Yavanna. The Giver of Fruits and Ordainer of Harvests. Her statue was tall and large. It mirrored the images I had seen earlier. I blushed. The air around me grew thicker and it became more difficult to focus. 

I observed the statue in my haze and the buzz of insects and the call of birds and tree frogs held me in a lulling trance. All around me was life. The scent of all that grows was intoxicating. There was a soft, cozy scent of leaf litter decaying, the perfume of flowers, fragrant leaves, and fruits, and all around, the air permeated with growth. 

At the base of the statue to Kementari, there was a creeping vine. I knelt and immediately there was a flood of simple pleasure. The soft moss called to me and I brushed my hand along it, the life within the simple plant surging. I sighed in great calmness—that which I had not felt in a long time, and certainly not within the city as so far. 

There was a smattering of hornworts and I inspected their leaves. They, too, brought a great peace and uplifting sensibility deep within me. I felt the world was singing softly, intently, and with the patience that plants held so well. 

I returned back to the creeping vine. It was a new species to me and peculiar, for it was heavy with fruit and new with flower. Innately I knew it to be uvë. It grew all throughout Kementari's shrine room and it was always in fruit and always in flower, never halting, never wanting for rest, and always providing. The perfume of the flowers was immensely relaxing and I felt myself lose grounding in this world.

If asked, I do not think I would have wanted to leave, and thankfully none asked this of me. Where my priest-guide was, I could not say. Too far was I entranced in the flora of Kementari's shrine room.

I picked some of the fruits of the vine and the aroma of such was beyond inviting. Some were small and bright and others were darker in color yet heavily plump. I ate one of the larger, ripe ones and the juice of which was sweet and floral. I could not recall a more delicious fruit. The life around me called, singing that unusual song that only the rich density of the forest could hold, and below it all, I sensed a greater song. A song that called to me to eat and to take pleasure in the gifts that it all held for me. It was beyond intoxicating. 

I ate a second fruit, this one was brighter and harder. It was sharp and bitter but just as delicious. I moaned, and deep down, my arousal grew. It was beyond carnal arousal; it was to my very soul.

I suddenly felt constrained by my clothing. The moss beneath me was too inviting and so I shed my shirt, only stopping to eat more of the berries. I lied down and the moss caressed me. From it wafted a musty smell, rich with growth. It spoke to me then, whispering in its plant-song. Lie with me, Firstborn, it sang. I was cast into comfort and the sense of a cool summer day, deep within a forest.

I ate more of the berries and the vine creeped, shifting and moving like a snake, displaying more of its fruit. I took more as it offered. 

My vision wavered and I realized that the room around me was no longer simply the shrine room. The room before was smaller, even in its lushness. This was one of the Iianuz's spaces, that which was held by Song. I have visited such spaces before, but it was a place for much preparation. I would have been alarmed if I could, yet something in the song, in the scents, and in the fruit I ate, I was at immense peace. Before me, a figure lay, watching me. They were dark and speckled with green. Their hair was short and lush and I quickly realized it was leaves. This was the spirit of the moss itself. A Mīai.

They watched me with their flat, brown eyes. 

I noticed they were nude, their breasts small. They had a thick, shorter penis. It was half-aroused, and inwardly, a part of me rebuked at the idea of this experience. From the Mīai came a soft hum. They took the uneaten fruits from my hand and shifted closer to me. They ate one, watching me, using their tongue to caress around the fruit. The juices seeped out, eager to nourish, and they offered it. I opened my mouth eagerly, entranced by the spirit.

I moaned, distracted by the powers of the fruit. 

The moss spirit worked at the rest of my clothes, taking time to feed me more of the fruit. I did nothing to stop him, unable, powerless as the perfume and scents around me relaxed me, as the song of the insects, amphibians, and birds lulled me away from logic. The fruit, I surmised later, was the brunt of my arousal and intoxication. It held a power over me that I could not deny. A power and song that demanded of my total submission.

The Mīai caressed my thigh and I felt myself harden and ache. They sang. It was harsh and strange yet that harshness faded to my senses and I was helpless to them, lying before Kementari and the plant-life around me. There were more, I knew. More Mīair, more plant-spirits, and beyond it all, I knew that Kementari herself was watching. Below the songs of the plants, of their Mīair, I could hear her song. Soft and low, she sang.

Unable to do all else, I writhed. It was a power that I could not easily take and later I wondered at how Haname, the human priest, had managed this. 

The Mīai of moss licked along my thigh and I ached greatly. They took no notice and continued. They leaned over me, kissing my torso and licking along my chest. I sank into the moss beneath me and I could sense it in ways I had never connected with any of the flora before. I knew every aspect as my mind and soul flooded with its song. 

I felt the spirit's mouth on me and I responded eagerly, kissing back. They opened their mouth and I opened, letting in their tongue. They offered another fruit and I moaned as I ate, the juices running along my cheek. 

The spirit lowered and lapped at my hardness. I felt full, ready to burst. The Mīai took me into their mouth and I grasped at the moss below me in immense pleasure. 

They spent their time on me, their mouth wet and warm, able to draw pleasure out of me, and yet as much as my body and mind screamed for release, I could not. I was at the mercy of the spirit entirely. 

They pulled away and I whimpered in need. Gently, they guided me to turn on to my stomach. 

I did so and the softness of the moss caressed and caused me to make more noise of pleasure.

The song around me grew and I took in a breath rich with the mustiness of the moss below me.

I gasped as the spirit caressed a thick liquid along my ass. A flutter of indignation and concern quickly dispelled as I felt pressure of the Mīai's glans against me.

The pressure intensified and there was a sharp feeling and it was equal in pain and pleasure. I leaned back, letting more of the Mīai's penis into me. 

The moss was gentle against my face and I moaned as its spirit moved inside me.

They were thick and at first, this gave me a pleasurable sense of pain, but as they moved, I adjusted. The contrast of it only made it more enticing.

We made our own song; the Mīai with their low, soft humming and me with my cries of pleasure. It wove well into the song of Kementari and her flora.

It was difficult to know how long we moved together, for it was beyond any form of sex I had received. I grew to understand the moss and its spirit. I understood well the ways it reproduced and thrived. I understood its properties of water retention and its medicinal uses. 

All the while, I felt the thick spirit moving within and the moss under me caressing my own penis. 

I desired and needed release, but they took their time in their movements, denying me.

I begged to the moss and its Mīai in sounds devoid of words, for language was lost to me. Deep, below the song of the moss, I heard Kementari's soft laughter. In time, she said, in the form of her Song.

The Mīai inside me grew more desperate and soon I was flooded with warmth as they came. It seeped into me, deep within, where it took root in my soul.

The Mīai pulled out of me, finished.

My pleasure abated but did not fully disappear entirely.

The song lessened and more of the world returned. 

I remained needy, horny, and I ached with it.

I turned to the Mīai and begged but it gave me a soft, indiscernible smile before fading into its host plant. I whimpered lightly, nude, sitting before the feet of Kementari. 

As the song returned to a whisper, I grew more lost and confused.


	3. The Gifts of Fern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irkwende is one of the Avari who enters the city of Angband [Three Peaks] to study the culture of the sacred sex temples.
> 
> By the nature of the Ainur and of the sex temples, there will be darker elements. There is oral and food mention.
> 
> There is a plot. Irkwende has entered the temple proper and has visited the first of the fifteen shrines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the Avari have their own languages, I have adopted some changes to my common spellings and therefore will include them in the list here. Consider it linguist porn if you must.
> 
> Manwe = Mānawenūz, Suliwe  
> Ulmo = Ullubōz  
> Oromë = Arōmēz  
> Tulkas = Tulukhastāz  
> Aulë = Aȝūlēz  
> Namo = Namandōstōz  
> Irmo = Glūrirmōnōlōsfantūrūz  
> Melkor = Mbelekhūrūz, Mailikoro
> 
> Varda = (A)Barādāz, Abaradi  
> Yavanna = Ivōnnākementarīz, Kementari  
> Nienna = Fuiheskīlēz  
> Estë = Ezidhēz  
> Vairë = Gwairilēz  
> Vána = Wannāz  
> Nessa = Dinēthīz
> 
> Mairon = Mairai
> 
> Ainur = Ayanuz, Iianuz  
> Maia = Mīai
> 
> Race of Men = Secondborn

It had seemed that my host had left. I could not complain. I had a rudimentary grasp of the language she spoke and even so, what could have been said? She would have seen me in the throws of sex. I had neither wanted nor planned for sex, let alone an audience. 

I caressed the moss lying before the idol of Kementari. In this instance, she felt both cruel and kind. I remained hard and wanting. I small sense of me felt betrayed. I had not imagined this setting. Now I understood why Urlyf had little desire to stay in the temple and as to why he had avoided it so eagerly. I wondered at how much time at passed and if he would return tonight and if so, how he would find me.

Time passed in an indiscernible manner in the temple room and I had trouble thinking of it as a room. The light remained pure, as if it truly was a grand forest. I wondered briefly at the mastery of architecture and unfathomable understanding of the materials that would have gone into the creation of it. From the complex halls that led here, no matter how dark and foreboding they seemed to me, to the outside, and to what other halls there must be. I shuddered at this thought. It terrified me in a way I cannot describe. Perhaps because I did know of any Eldar, Orc, Atani, Dwarf, or other being that could do this work other than the great ones. Who made the place I stood in now? How? Did I want this answer?

I tried to keep my head, but I could not help ignore my lust. It continued to return and disrupt my thoughts. Briefly, I grew angry with the Mīai for not continuing until I came, but that anger quickly passed as another wave of lust ran through me. 

Haname had returned, and to my surprise, I had not heard her approach. She had a drink in her hands, waiting beside Kementari. The look on her face, I could not read, although I suspected a hint of amusement. I was suddenly acutely aware of her arousal. It was in the air, in her sweat, in the way she held herself. 

I approached her and she held out the wooden cup. I took in the scent of the drink. It was not strong. Soft and gentle. I believe it to be a type of sap. I wondered as to what tree it came from, for what it is, I do not recognize. Haname watched me closely. This did nothing to calm my fears. Since my taste of the _uvë_ I feared to eat and drink all and any offered in the temple. 

I resigned myself to the path I had stepped on to and took in a sip. It was intense in the most gentlest of ways and confirmed my belief that this was a type of sap. It was clean and sharp and clear, and yet honeyish and distinctly tree-like. It satisfied a part of me that I did not know needing satisfied and continued to drink. 

What it did not assuage was my drive for fornication. That returned and subsided, as my biology allowed. 

Quite suddenly, I was aware that Haname fully knew of my own desire and the hardening of my penis. I wrestled internally with the desire for my clothing, and yet a part of me could not fathom it. Clothing became a strange foreign concept, as if it would hail the end of my time here in the temple, and with it, the strange and freezing fear that it would end my connection and favor with the Iianuz entirely. 

And so I drank my sap. I noticed an underlying honey flavor.

Haname left and I felt another great wave of lust. 

The Song grew and faded. This time I had the sense, if not the sound, of a different time, a land ancient. That before the awakening of the Firstborn. I finished my drink, and an ancient song enveloped me. I could still feel the gift of the moss within me. It was a duel awareness, that of the sperm of the moss and that of the knowledge and song now bound to me. I grew hungry for more of this. 

I looked to the statue of the robust Mother and a hidden part of me understood her more. Even in my state, I was amazed at my eagerness for another encounter. I sat before her, partly in reverence, but also in insufferable want. 

Haname had returned. I was lightly aware of this. She spoke something in song, yet I could not understand. Before me, she offered root and fern fronds. Without prompting I took the root and placed it in my mouth. The taste of which was surprisingly musty and I wrapped my tongue around it, thoroughly enjoying. I chewed just enough to release flavors, then savored the juices within. 

I took the fronds from Haname and she drifted away again. 

I was at a loss for what to do. 

My mind clouded with the song, pressing at my soul, digging deep within. And out of it came a primal desire. I soon grew frustrated with the fern root in my mouth. The mustiness was losing its flavor and seemed a mockery of what I truly need. I spat it out and in desperation, tried chewing on the fronds. 

Dimly, I was aware of my body. I rutted with the growing intensity of lust. Song had power, I had always known, but of this sort was new to me. 

The fronds were a fraction of what I wanted. I moaned in need and looked at the Ordainer of Harvest looming above me. The moss below seemed to mock me, unwilling to help. She, the great Lady, shared this amusement. I begged for more, for satisfaction.

Which of the ancient and foreign ferns around us it was, I am unsure, but the Mīai stepped forward before me, their penis hard. My mouth watered at it. That was what my body craved, what the songs called for. Ferns require water to breed, and I was eager to help.

I felt radiant joy from the Mīai as I licked along their shaft, taking great interest in their glans and the textures of them on my tongue. The song urged at me. They were musty, like the root, but much more satisfyingly so. I took the tip of them in my mouth, savoring the experience. 

They ran their hand through my hair gently. Through the song, I could sense the desire to propagate, to breed, and how the world was before the Firstborn awoke. The world that was wild and full of the magic of creation. I knew what was lost, even before the first of the Eldar opened his eyes. I shared the Mīai's need, the fern's desire. 

It heightened my own to unbearable lengths. 

I took them further in. Despite the urgency, I savored my time. The act was comparable to only one other, and that was of my experience with the moss. 

I took them further into me, aware of his tip at my throat.

The fern needed me, my water, and I drooled along them, gagging as they entered my throat, and I grew harder myself. I sucked eagerly, desiring for them to release their sperm, to form the means for fertilization. I was a mechanism, and from me, the true fern plant will grow. The song told of this, of the middle generations devoted to the reproduction of the fern. 

I was this, the middle, and I was honored.

I sucked eagerly, just as the Mīai reacted with pleasure, not letting me respite from their member. I held them close, taking them deep into my throat. We held like this, them unable to rest growing ever closer to filling me with sperm, and myself, drooling, wanton, lost to all but this act.

They came, and inside myself, I felt a missing part of my being settle, just as it had with the moss. I pulled away and felt the sperm in my throat, in my mouth. I was more desperate for release than ever. Mouth agape, the Mīai's sperm dripped down my chin. I coughed and spat. This is as the song spoke, I knew. If it was another, I would consume the sperm eagerly, but I had done my part. I had provided the middle, the water, the place for the fern to develop. It now had a new life, and there, a fern would grow as this one. I touched myself, amazed at how I ached.

The Mīai watched me with vague interest, then eased back into the plant-life. 

I spotted a vine of _uvë_ and grasped for the berries. I ate, the juice calling to me. In frustration, it only caused me more lust. I looked to the grand and beautious statue of the Vala of Life. I sensed great delight and laughter.


	4. The Taste of Cycads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irkwende is one of the Avari who enters the city of Angband [Three Peaks] to study the culture of the sacred sex temples.
> 
> By the nature of the Ainur and of the sex temples, there will be darker elements. There is oral and consumption of living arthropods.
> 
> There is a plot. Irkwende has entered the temple proper and has visited the first of the fifteen shrines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because the Avari have their own languages, I have adopted some changes to my common spellings and therefore will include them in the list here. Consider it linguist porn if you must.
> 
> Manwe = Mānawenūz, Suliwe  
> Ulmo = Ullubōz  
> Oromë = Arōmēz  
> Tulkas = Tulukhastāz  
> Aulë = Aȝūlēz  
> Namo = Namandōstōz  
> Irmo = Glūrirmōnōlōsfantūrūz  
> Melkor = Mbelekhūrūz, Mailikoro
> 
> Varda = (A)Barādāz, Abaradi  
> Yavanna = Ivōnnākementarīz, Kementari  
> Nienna = Fuiheskīlēz  
> Estë = Ezidhēz  
> Vairë = Gwairilēz  
> Vána = Wannāz  
> Nessa = Dinēthīz
> 
> Mairon = Mairai
> 
> Ainur = Ayanuz, Iianuz  
> Maia = Mīai(r)
> 
> Race of Men = Secondborn

Whether or not Haname returned, I did not know. After my consumption of the _uvë_ , I was unable to ignore Kementari's song, for that is what I truly believe what I heard. Her voice, ephemeral and heavy with the plant-life she so adored, washed through me and delighted my every being. I wish I could be ashamed to say, but it continued to draw great desire in me as well, an eagerness I had not known before my entrance to the sex temple of the Three Peaks. 

I raised myself on my knees, looking up at the greatness that was the Giver of Plant-life, the Mother, the Lady of the Harvests, and wept happily at her visage. I stood, understanding the plans and calls she gave to me. 

I sought a stream that flowed among her temple's gardens. It was clear and cold. It refreshed me, hydrating and energizing me. Around me, I heard the spirits of the plants. I could sense the Mīair who watched me curiously, eagerly, and appreciatively. There were many more than I could count—one for each of all the plant species on all of Arda. Once again, my mind wandered to how expansive this temple was, to house not just Kementari's temple and essence of her servants, but to house enough for all of the Iianuz.

That distraction was brief, for before me stood a new Mīai. He was thin, yet his skin was rough and woody. I was most entranced by his presence—ancient, and while younger than that of the mosses and ferns, he held a power and sharp intent that made him appear older. He radiated a danger—toxic, I realized. He held poisons within him, and his foliage was thick, tough, and had sharp points. Unlike the moss spirit, who was ancient and welcoming, and the fern, who was spry and mischievous, the cycad spirit truly beheld his age. 

His song emanated from him and I knelt, touching his thigh, looking up at him, eager to use my mouth as I had with the fern. I did nothing, feeling a sense of foreboding. I would use my mouth when he was ready. I instead took my time to appreciate his penis, taking in his scent, wondering how he would taste in comparison to the fern.

From elsewhere, another Mīai came forward. She appeared similar to the one before, and from her, I heard a complimentary song. I reached to touch her as well—her skin just as rough, her foliage just as sharp and inedible. 

Within their song, I understood that many of their pollinators were long since extinct.

I did not hear nor see her approach, but Haname crouched beside me, placing a bowl at my side. I looked at her, and saw understanding in her eyes. I do not know what she saw in mine, but I took the bowl. 

Within were insects—beetles. I looked to her, and Haname stood. Once again, I could smell her sexual need, and briefly, I realized if she made her move, I would have gladly reciprocated. She watched me, then returned to the shadows. I attempted to track where she went, but the Mīai before me provided too much of a distraction. 

From them I felt a great longing, a deep need and desire to propagate. They were a pair, and unlike the moss and fern before them, they needed each other to breed, and most of all, they required aid—they required me. 

I reached to the male, to enjoy his seed, yet he pressed a hand on me. There was a step I did not understand. I looked to the beetles and picked up the bowl. This was the key, and their song spoke of the pollinators, of the insects that collected the seed and passed them to the females. I picked up the beetle, and I felt a new song, that of another—that of the Wild. I wondered at this voice, and realized this was the Son of the Mother, the one who gifts us the animals. Without her, his creatures could not survive, yet they mutually benefit, and without him, her plant life could not breed.

The beetle wriggled its legs, and I bit into it, its body juice and its exoskeleton crunchy. The Mīair watched me, and I swallowed. I consumed them. Their song weaving into me, and I understood—they could not be dead as I ate. The song wove best like this, even though a part of my soul shuddered in horror. I was consuming life still living. 

As with the _uvë_ and the sap before, I felt a change to my mind. The song grew louder, and I understood the life of the beetles, of their consumption of sap and pollen, of their flight between cycads.

Looking to the two cycad spirits before me, I understood that now, I could withstand their poison, with the beetle's aid. 

My body craved the male's seed. I greatly desired his taste, of him in my mouth. Faintly, I wondered as to the nature of Kementari's temple, yet I could not help but find no complaint. With every moment I spent here, I grew to love her and her life ever more. My _fae_ flourished in this world and my _rhaw_ craved the service here.

The cycad male placed the tip of his penis on my lips, and this desire surged. The essence of the beetles to aid the cycad in his pleasure flowed through me, and my member ached with eagerness. I understood that I would not hold physical relief from this, and a light fear flooded through me, wondering when I would be allowed release. The alluring smell of the Mīai called to me. I opened my mouth to lick him.

The taste of him was truly different than the fern, who was unique and reminded me of a green, hardy salad. They were a taste I would gladly consume over and over, especially during spring. The cycad male was woody, harsh, and my elfish nature called to pull away. But the call of Kementari was louder and the life of the beetles within me called eagerly, hungry for the sweet flavor of his seed.

His penis was rough and large, scaled with thick fiber and I wondered at my ability to take him into me mouth, and so, carefully, I licked and played with his tip, learning to navigate him. I sensed an irritation to this, an eagerness to come, to spread and propagate, yet I remained cautious. I realized I enjoyed tempting and teasing him, yet the beetles' call inside me urged me to act faster.

Beside me, the cycad female, stood ready and eager. She did not move from where she was, she did not try to quicken my efforts. She watched coolly. Yet I could smell her and her clitoris was engorged, outward, as if it was a small penis. It glistened with her juices, and she held no shame in how it crept down her thigh. She touched herself, exposing her clitoris more, and I moaned, realizing how badly I wanted to lick her, too.

The male Mīai gently grabbed my head, pushing himself further into my mouth, and my moaning muffled. I accepted this happily, the fears of my elfish self failing. His penis grew thicker closer to the base, and struggled with this, drooling carelessly over myself and him. This difficulty only urged me to try harder.

He ran his hand through my hair, and I was surprised by how he was much rougher than the others before me. Trapped, I moaned as this only caused me need in me, and I played my tongue along his scaled and rough penis. He moved himself, and I accepted to be his receptacle. 

He came, and delicious sweetness flooded my mouth, and unable to prevent myself, I swallowed. I wanted it in me, my body hungry for his seed—hungry to try the seed of all the Mīair around me. Yet I understood that the female cycad required it as well, and I felt great shame by my greed.

The Mīai did not stop his movements, and he came a second time, and I struggled to not swallow. He pulled out, softening lightly, but I knew he could come soon again if we wished.

His semen remained in my mouth, and the greed within me to consume it continued to war. Some of it flowed past my lips, for there was too much, and it dribbled down my chin. A strangled whine came from my throat, frustrated, suddenly desiring one to come on me.

I crawled to the waiting Mīai, who watched me with great excitement. The scent of her great, large clitoris was rich and inviting, yet it too had a harshness to it that my elfish self feared. If it were not for the beetles, I would be greatly ill.

She grabbed my hair, drawing me in, and I had no complaint to this treatment. I opened my mouth, pressing it against her, and the semen flowed out, along my chin and chest, along her thigh, and most importantly, along her vulva. 

I sucked in her clitoris, which too was scaled and fibrous. I found no trouble, having taken in the greater genitals of the male cycad, and the Mīai before me moaned happily as I navigated my tongue around her engorged self.

I moved in similar manners, yet on a smaller scale, for she was not as large as the male, yet she still had width and length. I had not seen a clitoris such as this before, but I found her greatly enjoyable. 

The Mīai pressed me closer, and I knew that she was close. Much of her enjoyment had been from watching me with the male. Her taste mixed with the male's semen and any bitterness quickly faded to sweetness. 

More liquid came forth and I found myself sticky and covered in the fluids of both Mīair. 

She came and I sucked in her come, swallowing as much as I could. 

She released my hair and shoved me away. Overcome with pleasure, I lay, moaning.

Where they went, I was unsure. I eagerly lapped up the fluids they had left on me.


End file.
